Change of Nothing
by secretparamour
Summary: An Indirect Interpretation of a Jade and Beck Moment. One Shot  *I do not own Victorious*


**Hello everyone! So this is yet another One Shot that I wrote, but its not based upon anything, besides a dream I had. Please regard the bold words, because as the story comes to an end, they will make much more sense :) Enjoy!**

**A/N: This is not a direct Jade and Beck scenario, so just picture it if it bothers you in that case :)**

Every Friday, they had made it a tradition to walk in the near by park, and just stroll around, talking, enjoying one another's company. Nothing had ever gone wrong, because these days were longed for, they were wanted, and after a hard week of homework and play rehearsals, it had decided to not only vent out their feelings, but also listen to one another's thoughts. They both really had no idea how the tradition even caught on, but it did, and they both were secretly pleased with it.

Today, this Friday, was different than the others. They both felt it, but kept quiet for a while. It was torture. Neither of them talked, not one word, they weren't holding hands like always, and her head wasn't on his shoulder as it always was. It was odd. Neither of them had a clue of why this had suddenly turned tables, nor why suddenly everything had changed, everything was distorted. They both kept quiet, walking alongside each other, not awkwardly, but just distantly. They stood a foot apart from each other, but the distance didn't alter their pace, they stayed together, but didn't share a glance, didn't share a word. If they could not even manage to look at one another, how could they speak, how could they touch?

A spectator would think that this is just a small obstacle in the long-term relationship, a breakable wall that seemed unbreakable at the moment, but would be broken down in no time, a small bump in the road, but everything would be fine. But this was like something that had never happened before, unusually distinctive. As much as it seemed not to bother the peers around them, it bothered them internally. Neither even took a peak at one another, it was all eyes ahead. Her cold blue eyes, and his brown ones staring at the barren park ground, the trees and their brushing leaves, the lonely benches, and the beaming light posts – the quiet sound haunted them both, it scared them. They walked onwards, with nothing. **Nothing **to say,** nothing **to do.

It was strange, this was the **first** time it was happening, but it wasn't something either of them wanted to learn from, it was something they wanted to forget. They kept walking, silently, wondering why they kept walking, one of them could've just turned around if the silence was bothering them – They both could've turned around and walked their separate ways, but they didn't, while the stayed distant, they were still near. It was as if however far they were, they would still be close. A weird metaphor to only describe their boring, brooding muteness.

She had her bag slung over her shoulder, and the sound of it swaying back against her body was the only sound alongside the mindless blowing wind, and the hustle of the leaves on the park pavement. Her face was pained, it was troubled. Her stony, hard blue eyes stared into the horizon, and her feelings were mixed with confusion, sorrow, somewhat regret of something.

He was empty handed, for he had dropped all of his stuff of at home before meeting her here, which was something different as well. Usually they walked here together directly after classes, but again, everything had changed this afternoon. He, the mirror of her, walked along, his chocolate brown eyes staring at his surroundings, his face covered with sadness and misunderstanding.

They both felt the same inside, but for some reason could not come together. It was frightening. They kept strolling, losing track of time, but they both were aware of the hours that had passed by.

It had officially been three hours in the park, and they had only reached mid way. The taciturnity had slowed them down, by this hour, they would be walking home, he would be walking her home.

The silence began to eat her insides out, her everything was being nibbled away by the hush sounds of nature around. She hadn't heard his voice, not once, and it killed her. She began to die little by little inside, she couldn't take it, her fragile core was disintegrating minute-by-minute, second by second. Her mind began to develop words for the first time during this stroll; it began developing words of anger, of pain. It began to slowly process, creating a sentence, and took its way slowly down to her throat, it motioned her to speak. Her mouth was dry, for she had not spoken to him the whole day, the whole afternoon, or the whole night. She opened her mouth, but the dehydration in her mouth, even with her constant efforts to speak, couldn't reveal the words she had created for him to hear. She focused, and she swallowed, taking her time to allow enough breath to yell at him. She stopped, and she turned, practically robotic, and opened her mouth to speak. He paused, halted in his path, but hesitated to turn; instead he stayed, facing the nothingness of the sky. She didn't rush it, instead she took another deep breath, maybe to create a dramatic entrance to her small speech, or perhaps to caution him for her words, or caution herself for her words.

She took another, her third deep breath, the deepest of them all, and looked straight at him.

His long, silky brown hair, his tall, straight nose, his long eyelashes that covered his auburn eyes, his tan skin, and his dark pink lips, everything about him, it seemed so foreign to her, she was confused to see the figure standing before her, it was as if she had never seen him before. But it wasn't as if she had lost her mind, or totally forgotten who he was, but she saw someone new, someone different, the same someone she had once known but failed to recognize.

She began her dialogue, a whisper. She paused. She began again. But she was hesitant, she had never felt so unsure, but she instigated her dialect anyway.

"What happened?" She murmured, a salty tear running down her bronzed cheek. She swallowed, her words were not a question to be answered, but instead a sentence that was going to be left hanging. She stuttered, her single tear suddenly producing many more, frantically pouring out of her eyes. She was scared, afraid to experience the possible outcome of what she had just said. She took an unsteady step forward, tripping slightly with fear.

He turned to look at her, their eyes meeting, and suddenly, that once short glance made her run. She ran. She ran as far away as she could from him, she ran back the three hour distance that they had just walked, attempting to forget their great memories, the memories that would be burned on this very day, and all that would be left were the ashes of good times, which she would ignore. She ran, full speed, not bothering to turn back to see if he was following her. She didn't care. She kept running, until she ended up at the place she least wanted to be. His house. She had nowhere else to go, but yet she still chose here.

She sat on the steps before his home, his movable home, and cried. Her face in her palms, she cried, and cried, and wondered what had unexpectedly gone wrong in a relationship that had been so strong, so powerful. She didn't know how long she cried, but she sat there, sobbing, the one great thing in her life, was dissolving, faster than she expected.

He was stunned. He didn't know what to do. He stood at the park, un-knowing of where she went, but he for sure was aware of why. He had felt it too, the silence, the slow loosening of their tight bond, he knew something had gone wrong, but he didn't have an answer to her statement, what happened – he didn't know. But there was a small sensation in his feeling, which had stayed the same; it had stayed the same – the feelings he had for her. He walked back, the same route she had just sprinted through, the same route they had walked quietly for three hours on, he walked back, his pace speeding up. He didn't know where to find her, she was tricky, she hid somewhere different every time, but other than that, he also had no idea what to say to her. He walked along the path, trying to relive every memory he had, trying to gain ideas from those sweet, amorous memories, but nothing worked, so he just kept walking. He walked, and not knowing where to go, he strolled on over to his RV, his home. He walked the block, only to see his dark-haired beauty sitting on the steps, crying.

He studied her, her pale hands soaked with tears, and the way her glossy black hair blended with her dark clothes, spreading everywhere. He could only hear small sniffs, the small puffs released from her mouth, but her sobs were short, sporadic, silent.

He walked over to her, not knowing what to do. He gently placed his warm, once comforting hand on her shoulder, waiting for her to respond. She kept looking down. She didn't know what to do either.

The touch of her clothed skin against his arm suddenly ran sparks up his arm, and then and there, he answered, "**Nothing**."

She looked up doubtfully, her face covered with her dark eye makeup, left over tears spilling from her eyes, and she understood him, she understood what he meant, and everything seemed fine again, just everything. She felt his soft touch shortly, quite late actually, she felt sparks, sparks like the first day they met, the first time they kissed, the first time the did anything, she felt those sparks run through her body.

They stared at each other, realizing that nothing had changed between them. They had nothing to worry about, their love was too strong to break, the rope of their romance was too sturdy – It was the **first **time of the **change of nothing.**

**I hope you enjoyed it. I am actually pretty pleased with my work for the first time :) It is definitely something new for me. **

**As you can see, it is not a direct reference to a Jade and Beck, but let me tell you the story: I had a dream, about something like this, very similar, but I decided since I write fanfic's I might as well convert this into Jade and Beck scenario.  
>I hope you all enjoyed the third person, and the trick of the BOLD. I am sorry if the wordiness and description is overdone, but I thought it was necessary to set the mood of. Plus, it only had two dialogues so, that was very different! <strong>

**I want to issue a small challenge, something I wasn't smart enough to think of : Tell me what you think was wrong with Jade and Beck in this story? I didn't know, so I would love for you to review with a minuscule plot line of what went wrong. I couldn't think of one while writing, so its you're turn! :)**

**Thanks so much for reading, and reviewing :) **

**◊ secretparamour ◊**


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